


Timeless

by crowdedangels



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Timey-Wimey, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: When a trip back in time changes aspects about the present, would attempts to change it back actually be breaking something that is now fixed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching a lot of 'Timeless' (and you should too! Please!) and lo, this has plagued my brain for the last few weeks.  
> Huge thanks to Tricki for being a capslock/feelsy sounding board xx

The heavy footfalls on the metallic platform were a welcome sound as they finally made it back through the Stargate.

"Thank you, thank you," Jack joked, his hands up as if shielding himself from photographers. "I know I look fabulous."

Sam shook her head, fighting a giggle as they walked their way to Terra Firma and passed her zat gun to the waiting SF.

"Welcome back, SG1. Fashion aside," Hammond smiled, "Mission accomplished?"

"Yes sir," Sam answered. "We were able to retrieve the device and find Gna. In 1983."

"Bitchin' year, General, I think you'll agree."

"1983..." the General shook his head. Despite their occasional dealings with alternate universes and the fun they always brought with them, it was the time travel aspect of the job that always baffled him. "Okay, clean up and we'll debrief in one hour."

"Permission to keep the mullet, sir?"

Hammond gave him a look over, fighting a smirk, "Denied, Colonel."

"Aww c'mon! The pastel suit?" He rolled the sleeves further up his arms.

"Denied, Colonel."

"Shoot. Carter just wore her own gear, I feel an injustice."

"Hey!" she laughed. She had been assigned a rocker vibe for the expedition and just happened to have a wardrobe full of available leather.

"One hour," Hammond grinned. "Good job, SG1."

Sam and Jack fell into step on their way to the lockers. "So, I never asked, was this you in the 80s?"

He looked down, happy to actually get out of the scratchy fabric and into his BDUs. The 80s had terrible fashion. "No, I was in black ops for most of it, so this look thankfully passed me by. Tried the Richard Gere look a few times though, Sara had a thing."

Sam bit her cheek, an image flashing suddenly in her mind.

"What about you? Other than the make-up this seems pretty natural."

"Oh, I was in high school in the 80s so not quite."

"God, you're so young! I forget sometimes."

Their wasn't a hint of condescension in his voice, if anything it was jealousy. "Sorry about that," she grinned. "I was more jeans and a tee and trying to get noticed by Todd Brindle."

" _Trying_ to get noticed?"

"Oh, he thought he was way out of my league."

"No, I'm just trying to imagine a scenario where someone doesn't notice _you_." They were stopped outside the women's locker room and she had to to fight the blush rising. He had that smirk and twinkle in his eyes, despite the mullet that she couldn't take seriously. "And Todd sounds like an ass."

"Oh he was. Good kisser though." She had her own smirk and turned for the door, "See you in an hour, sir."

\--  
  
The debrief was lengthy, with Jack feeling like he was rehashing every minute of the expedition in real time. Sam went in to detail about the trip back in time (bumpy), the retrieval of the device (easier than expected), who they had encountered (no one famous) and how they had then made the transfer to Gna as planned (piece of cake).

They were finally bade exit after nightfall when the indefatigable Carter was trying to swallow yawns. Jack followed her to the parking lot and waved goodnight, her Volvo peeling out into the dark.

It was only when Carter pulled up at her home that any metaphorical alarms bells began to ring.

There were lights on.

More than that: a kid's bike was propped against the porch, an SUV was parked in the driveway and her mail box now stated 'McMatthews'.

She looked up and the down the street but nothing else seemed out of place. She wasn't exactly head of the neighborhood watch but she knew her neighbors' cars and what was normal behaviour. She was tired but this was definitely her house, except...

She scrambled for the cell phone on the passenger seat and dialled Jack. _"O'Neill."_

"Sir, I don't..."

_"Carter? Everything okay?"_

"I'm not sure, Sir. Is everything... normal at your place?"

_"Not there yet, just stopped off for groceries. What's going on?"_

"Someone's in my house... but it doesn't look like my house?"

_"Carter, I'm gonna need more than that."_

She explained about the bike and car, the new name on the mailbox.

_"That's... weird."_

"I know."

_"Head over to mine, I'll be there in five and well figure this out."_

She did as told and pulled up just as he was unloading grocery bags from the back of the truck. She hefted one under her arm and followed him into his house. "And you've, you know, paid your bills. They didn't sell it on?"

"Yes, everything was paid," she would have given him a swat if she could have. "Is everything the same here?"

He looked around his kitchen, opening the fridge to find just butter and a six pack, "Seems it. Beer?"

"Uh...sir?"

Her voice was coming from the main room so he followed, twisting the caps off two bottles and holding one out as he followed her eyeline.

She was stood in front of the fireplace and staring at a photograph. "Well, that's new."

"That's me."

"And me. In Hawai'i. I've never been to Hawai'i."

She dragged her eyes away to look at him dumbfounded. He was focusing on the Hawaiian beach and not the fact they were kissing? In swimwear?

He put the bottle on the side and looked for more changes. Now he looked, it was... nicer? Homelier. There was a throw against the sofa, a plant in the corner and science tomes mixed in to his bookcase. He went through the house, Sam on his heels, to find two toothbrushes and hairspray in his bathroom, her Indian next to his bike in the garage and... He lifted it out by the straps and held the white lace lingerie against his chest that was in place of his socks. "Um..."

She felt the blush rise on her chest at the darkening of his eyes.

"Well, this isn't mine...?"

"I think we messed up back in time. Would you put that down, please?"

He scrunched it up into a ball and slammed the drawer shut, "Right."

"Oh god, what else is different? What did we do?" She pulled her phone out of pocket to look up various recent events but automatically brought up her text messages, and what she saw made her sit on the bed in shock.

"What is it?"

Her eyes were sparkling but the colour had drained from her face. She hit a button and a dial tone sounded from the speaker. _"Hey Sam! When did you get back?"_

"Janet..." She breathed, her eyes never leaving Jack's.

_"Yeah. YOU called ME, honey,"_ Janet laughed. _"Wait, did you butt-dial me?"_

"Talk to her," Jack whispered, sliding down next to her on the bed.

"Hi. Er, hi Janet."

_"... Hi. Sam, are you feeling okay? Did the, er, TRIP go okay?"_

"Yeah, erm, mostly. ...It's good to hear your voice."

_"Honey, you're scaring me now, what's going on? Do you want me to come over?"_

Sam looked to Jack unsure of what to say, he nodded. "Could you?"

_"Of course. I'm on my way."_

"Thank you. Oh! Er, I'm at Colonel O'Neill's."

_"Well, duh."_

Janet hung up and Sam was just staring at her phone. "Something we did brought her back to life. Brought _Janet_ back to life."

"Is that not a good thing? I mean..."

"For every action there's an equal and opposite reaction, right?"

"...so if this is a good thing, there's a bad thing that's happened?"

"Theroretically."

"How do we do find out?"

“There isn't a lot we can do. There isn't a cosmic tally chart we can consult.”

“We should start one.”

She ran her fingers through her hair and heaved out a breath, leaning over to rest her elbows into her thighs. She felt nauseous.

“Carter, bottom line, can we go back to what we- _when_ we were or is this us now?”

“I...don't know. We're in the right time, we haven't changed universes or realities, we just did something when we went back in time that altered the present.”

“What could we have done?”

“It could be anything. There's literally millions of possibilities.”

He scratched the back of his neck, “I need a drink.”

She agreed and followed him back to the living room, both quickly downing their foregone beers as Jack poured them a healthy amount of scotch. He poured a third also, feeling Janet would be needing one after their conversation.

Sam's eyes were drawn again to the fireplace, to the beach picture. Her in a bikini, arms around a topless Jack and laughing into their kiss. They were stood in clear blue ocean, beautiful green mountains behind them that she recognised from countless daydreams through travel brochures. She looked happy; happier than she had in a long time.

“How?” he asked, breaking her from her reverie. “How can.. _we_...be together? 

She couldn't answer, could just take a decent slug of the whisky and revel in the burn down her throat. She was saved from answering by the knock on the door. She turned to look at it but hadn't made a step.

Jack wrapped his hand over her shoulder, squeezing to urge her forward. He was a step behind when she finally moved and pulled on the top of the door after she had twisted the handle.

“Hey,” Janet smiled.

She was there, she was actually stood on the step. Her hair was long and dark, touching her shoulders and she was just as tiny as Sam remembered. “Hi.”

Janet's face dropped as she saw tears sparkling in her friend's eyes. “What's going on?” she asked, stepping forward to envelope her in a hug. She silently questioned Jack, but he was staring at her as dumbstruck as Sam had. “Okay, I really need one of you to start talking.”

“Come on through,” Jack said, touching Sam's arm. He lead them to the living room and passed Janet the scotch as she sat on a chair, he and Sam taking the couch. All were sat forward, arms and elbows resting on their thighs.

Janet looked between her two friends, her mind concocting a hundred possible dire scenarios but likely none accurate. “Who's first?”

Jack and Sam looked to each other before looking back, “Okay, the mission we were just on?” Sam began. “It didn't go according to plan.”

“Apparently,” Jack added.

“We... did _something_ that changed, well, time.”

“Excuse me?”

“We all knew it was a possibility, but we were careful-”

“-So careful-”

“-But everything's different now.”

Janet swallowed, searching their eyes for any sign it was an elaborate prank. “Different how?”

“Well, for one, we seem to be...together. The Colonel and I.”

Janet took a large gulp of scotch, “Okay. Everything in me is saying I should be checking you two over for concussions, but I'll play along because you've never lied to me, and hell, the jobs we have mean you could be telling the truth anyway...” She took a breath, “You're married.”

“Married?” Jack squeaked.

“Three years.”

The way Jack knocked back his drink was beginning to convince Janet that maybe they weren't trying to pull the wool over her eyes.

“How? I mean...” Sam's eyes were wide. “How?”

Janet smiled, “You fought tooth and bloody nail.”

“And we're on the same SG team?”

“Not quite. Sam's the lead of SG1, and the Colonel, to use his own words, is 'a floater'. You're rarely with SG1 and go where the need is between all of the teams.”

He could just about see that work. Maybe. He took a swig of his scotch and saw Sam thread her hands through her hair. Janet was watching them sceptically. Hell, he had to ask. “Can I as-... I had a son...?”

Sam's eyes snapped to look at him but he was firmly staring at Janet. The dark look that clouded over the doctor's features told him everything he needed. He excused himself, Sam jerking in her seat to follow but seeing the small shake of his head.

“Gunshot?” Sam whispered. She wanted to go to him, but what could she say? She heard the door click shut.

Janet nodded. “You're really telling me the truth here aren't you? What else has changed?”

She heaved a heavy sigh before turning back to her. “You.”

“Me?”

“You got hit by a Jaffa staff blast off-world two years ago. You died.”

Janet stared until she remembered she had alcohol in her hand. She coughed a little when she downed the lot, “That would explain some things.”

“Cassie?” Sam asked, her fingers intertwining around the glass.

“At her friend's.”

“Good,” she said, relieved.

“You're really not together? In your time?”

Her cheeks coloured, “It's complicated.”

“That's a shame. You're good together. And fought _so hard_ to get it.”

Sam downed her drink and refilled both hers and Jack's, gesturing to Janet's that she held out. “I never even thought how weird this must be for you. You've lost your me. You seemed close from what I saw of your texts.”

“Oh, I'm not nearly drunk enough to work that one out yet.”

Sam grinned, “God, I've missed you.”

“Is he going to be alright?” Janet smiled warmly.

Sam looked down the darkened hallway, “He will be.”

“Do you have any other questions?”

“SG1?”

“You, Daniel, Teal'c and Major Martinez.”

“Guy?”

“Marcus.”

“Damn.”

“Good guy though.”

“Daniel and Teal'c weren't on the base...”

“Daniel got called urgently to Chicago, something about an exhibit. Teal'c's off world with his son.”

“Is he married yet?”

Her eyebrows rose, “Teal'c?”

“Ry'ac,” Sam smiled.

“Oh! Yes.”

“What about you?”

“Married? God, no. Chief Medical Officer, Mom, single. Listen,” she stole a look down the hallway. “We can catch up anytime, you should go to him.”

Sam nodded, her features turning dark. “I'll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course. I'll see you at the Mountain.”

Sam followed her to the door, “Thanks for coming over.” They hugged again and Sam closed the door, twisting the lock and placing her hand flat against the wood.

This day was causing a giant headache. How did she comfort him? As the Sam she is, or Sam the wife? She felt the decision stretching her inside.

She gently rapped on his bedroom door, waiting for a sound that never came. She looked back to the living area and wondered if she should just leave him with his grief, but...

She pushed gently and it clicked open; he was sat on the far side of the bed, silhouetted beneath the window. He had a photograph of Charlie in his hand when she sat next to him. “Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't think to ask if-”

“It's fine,” he said with more force than he meant. He scraped a hand over his hair and to his neck. “I'm sorry. Janet gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Any idea how to fix this yet?”

“No clue.”

He nodded, his head still ducked. She wanted to touch him, smooth her hand down his back to his knee, maybe rest her head on his shoulder, just comfort him in any way possible. “Guess we might as well turn in then.”

She swallowed through the ache, curled her hands into fists on her thigh. “Do you have any spare sheets?”

“Hall cupboard. You can take the bed though.”

“Couch is fine.” She placed her hands on his shoulder, squeezed gently. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Yeah, night.”

She closed the door behind her and padded back through the hall, taking a set of sheets and a few blankets from the cupboard on the way. She made up the couch and then realised she was still in her jeans and sweatshirt from leaving the base. She contemplated just removing her jeans but that did not seem a wise option when sleeping at your CO-come-apparent-husband's house for the first time...

“Um, sir?” she gently tapped at his door again. He appeared wearing just sweatpants, wrestling his arms through a tee shirt and she felt her cheeks almost instantly color. “I'm sorry to disturb you, but, er, I think I may have some clothes to sleep in in here?”

“Right, yeah,” he opened the door wider for her to enter.

“Thanks. Any idea where?”

Well, not the top drawers, that much Jack knew. He stepped forward and tried the long drawer below it. “These?” He held out a pair of grey yoga pants.

“Sure. Is there a tee in there?”

“No... but I can lend you one?”

That sounded like a bad idea but she wasn't really in a position to refuse. “Please. If that's okay?” Her shoulders were up by her ears and he wasn't sure if he had ever seen her look more uncomfortable.

He opened another drawer and pulled the top tee out, passing her the grey shirt with a faded Cubs logo on the front.

“Thank you, sir. That's great. Good night, sir.”

“Night, Carter.”

\---

  
  


There was already coffee on when he got out the shower. It took him a moment to remember that there was someone else there because, other than the new addition of conditioner and hair spray in his bathroom, nothing was out of place in his room. He quickly changed into dark blue BDU pants and black tee, scrubbed the towel over his hair some more and ventured into the hallway.

She was in the kitchen, socked feet and the yoga pants and (his) oversized tee combo with messy hair and a quizzical look on her face. He watched as she opened and closed cupboard doors in search of something before taking a second and choosing another, finding the mugs in a completely different place to where he had them. His brow pinched before he realised – that was where _she_ would and had put them. His wife. His wife Samantha Carter.

He wondered if he as her husband would have crept up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and whispered good morning into her neck. Would they – _did_ they _–_ dance around each other in a morning, sharing one cup of coffee and bumping hips to get the other's attention with a mouthful of breakfast? Did she give him a toast-crumbed kiss goodbye and tell him a crossword answer before she left?

He felt a pull of nostalgia and something else deep in his chest.

“Morning,” she smiled at the random angles his hair was drying into and poured him a cup from the coffee machine. “Did you sleep?”

“Nope. You?”

“Not really.” She turned so her back leant against the counter. Wrapping both hands around the mug and crossing her ankles, she looked at ease considering this wasn't her kitchen. Technically. “I need to get to my lab to work this out.”

He sat down at the table, “We'll need to see Hammond first.”

“That's going to be a fun conversation.”

“Hey George, so we screwed up and changed the present. Our bad.”

She bit back a smirk.

“Do you think...”

She ducked her head slightly to gesture him to continue.

“I don't know, I mean...” he got up and mirrored her pose against the counter. “Could this be karma? The universe has realised it screwed up killing Janet and decided we...need a break and don't have to...deny it any more?”

She swallowed, her eyes locked on his. “Sir...”

That one word told him everything he needed to know. “Right. No cosmic tally sheet.”

How did she say that she had spent the sleepless night trying to work out if she _wanted_ to fix this, forget if she could. That a large part of her just wanted to be able to be with him and be at the SGC, but it was all too sudden and too unbelievable to be true. Surely. Surely?

“There's towels in the hallway cupboard,”

he hooked a thumb over his shoulder and poured more coffee, stalking past her and to the other room.

Her mouth moved to form words but nothing came out. She screwed her eyes shut in frustration at herself and went for a shower.

The bathroom smelled like him. A spicy musk from his shower gel hung in the humid, damp air and it made something flutter deep in her stomach that she would deny was desire. She quickly showered and washed her hair, helpfully finding all her favourite products in the mirrored cupboard with her hairdryer.

She wasn't too sure where her clothes were so tried a few drawers in the chest, slamming shut both the drawer that contained the lingerie and the one next to it with his underwear.

She was cautious about going back into the kitchen, but the trepidation in her steps was unwarranted. He gestured to the TV, "Cubs still suck. Why couldn't we have changed that too?"

She laughed, the tension in the air dissipating. "You ready?"

He knocked back his coffee and nodded, grabbing his coat and keys.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was curled into her laptop when Janet found her a half way through the morning. The sight of her in the doorway gave Sam a start, "Sorry. Not used to seeing you yet."

"I understand," Janet smiled, stepping to her side. "Any closer to getting back to...now?"

"Not yet. Without knowing what we did to change it, it's difficult to change it back. We haven't done time travel enough to be able to troubleshoot efficiently."

Janet watched the simulation results rolling on the laptop screen. "Did you speak with General Hammond?"

"He's just as confused as the rest of us. He's got Colonel O'Neill going through the mission brief and adding more detail to see if we can figure out when or how, and I'm running potential simulations of how to jump back on the next flare.”

“But?”

“But there's no way of knowing when the next flare will be and no saying that we could go back to the now we had or just change something else irrevocably."

Janet could see the turmoil it was all placing on her, and squeezed her shoulder, "Medicine is hard enough, I'll leave the time travel to you guys. How did last night go?"

Sam nodded, turning back to her laptop screen, "Fine, yeah."

"How fine?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Not like that." She looked over her shoulder to the door and was satisfied no one was there before she continued in a whispered tone, "This morning, he asked if this was a karmic do-over. That the universe realised it shouldn't have... killed you and was giving us the go ahead to be together."

"And you said...?"

"I didn't know what to say! I don't really believe in karma and if the universe really was a sentient thing, why would allowing us to be together really be on its to-do list?"

Janet's head was beginning to hurt. She was very intelligent but romantic astrophysics certainly wasn't in her skill set. She pulled up a stool and sat next to her, “I don't know what I can say...”

“Me neither. I just...”

“Just what?”

Sam bit her lips together. The Janet she had known wasn't supportive of the feelings Jack and Sam shared so, even though _this_ Janet understood, it was difficult for Sam to be truly open. “I just... don't think I could go back to nothing if we had something. I'm scared to take the opportunity presented to us if I might be able fix it.”

Janet nodded, unsure of how her next words may be received. “If you were to be able to go back to what you had, would you really be _fixing_ it? Sam, from what you've told me, you have the same life here. Except that the two things you didn't have then – me and Colonel O'Neill – _are_ here. You have us here. Would you not be breaking something that's fixed?”

Sam could feel the tears pricking at her eyes. “I don't know.”

Janet stepped off the stool and pulled her in for a hug.

\---

  
  


Sam took a tray from the stack and slid it along the cafeteria's railings until she got to the salad bar. She scooped up a bowl's worth, took a blue jell-o and a slice of cake for Jack, and a coffee and water. She kept sliding until she got to the cashier, “Hi Mary.”

“Hi honey,” she smiled, keying up the charge and taking the proffered money. “Hey, honey, can I ask you something?”

Sam stuffed her change into her pocket, “Sure.”

Mary leant closer a slight, a sheath of gray hair falling from behind her ear. “Are you two okay?”

She followed her eyeline to where Jack was doodling on a napkin. “...Okay?”

“Yeah, you know, you two don't seem like your usual selves and...well, you're not wearing your ring, honey.”

Sam looked down at her usually bare finger, she hadn't even thought that she should've – _would've_ – had a ring there. “Oh, no, erm, everything's fine. My ring is... getting resized. We're good.”

Mary nodded but seemed unconvinced. Sam smiled sheepishly and took her tray over to Jack's table. He straightened up when Carter took a seat. “You okay, Carter?”

She passed him the slice of cake and a fork, “Mary asked where my ring was.”

“Ah...”

His eyes were too dark, too intense as they looked into hers. She felt all the questions ringing through her mind again, the desire settling deep in her stomach to turn that look into a shocked one with just one kiss. She cleared her throat, “How's the file going?”

“Right, yeah. I've added some details here and there, like how there were _three_ different MTV tee shirts on the rack and that they were _neon_ green, not just green.”

“Oh, that'll make all the difference.”

“I think so.”

“Do you have the letter that Daniel got?”

He shuffled the papers until he recovered the letter and photographs. “Here.”

She took a mouthful of salad and took the papers. There was a typed, brief letter including coordinates and times for the pick up and drop off, a detailed photograph of the amulet and a grainy photograph of Jack and Sam at the marketplace. The latter was how Daniel had organised Jack's outfit, Sam's was already in her closet. “Remind me how you got the mullet?”

“Silar. Don't ask.”

“And the clothes?”

“Silar. Don't ask.”

“When is Daniel back?” she laughed.

“His flight's delayed, back tomorrow he hopes.” He took a bite of cake, “Remind me to ask him why I couldn't change before that bike ride.” He pointed at her with his fork, his tone suddenly serious though his eyes sparkled and lips were turned into a slight smirk, “I was _very_ cold.”

“Good to know,” she smiled, before adding the “Sir.” She flipped the letter and held it up for any watermarks or hidden messages, finding nothing of note. She moved onto the picture of the amulet, “Daniel hasn't been able to translate this since we last saw him?”

“Nope. But he probably thinks its a derivation of ancient Latin with some hieroglyphs and maybe a recipe for Beef Bourgignon mixed in,” he scooped up frosting.

She traced the writing on the amulet, “Mmhmm, I see that.”

He smiled into his forkful, enjoying the easy humour.

“Listen, um, Sir,” Sam tucked the papers back into the folder. “I think it'd be best if I sleep at the base tonight.”

“Oh?” He couldn't say he wasn't disappointed.

“It makes sense. I don't know what time I'm going to be finished here and-”

“-No, yeah, it makes sense,” he settled back into the seat, scratching his fingers through his hair before crossing his arms.

“Until we figure this thing out.”

“Carter, what if we don't?”

“I- what are you doing?” he had suddenly sat forward and taken her hand, drawing feather-light shapes across the palm of her hand and the inside of her wrist. She felt a shudder run down her spine right as Mary came to collect Jack's empty plate.

“Mary, what have I told you about flirting with me while I'm with my wife?” Jack winked.

She cleared the table with a smirk, “And what have I told you about my Ronnie coming down to kick your ass?”

“Babe,” he turned to Sam, “I'm sorry you have to witness her outrageous behaviour.”

Mary was laughing as she moved onto the next table.

“That was very cute,” Sam smiled gently.

“I am,” he kept smoothing his thumb across the backs of her hands, his eyes still twinkling with boyish mischief. “I think we need to keep up the marriage pretence. Just keep it between those who need to know until we figure something out.”

She squeezed his hands, “Fake it 'til we make it.”

Oh, how he wanted to make a remark there. Apparently she read his mind by the hint of a coquettish smirk tilting her lips.

He chanced his bets, grinning as he asked, “Still want to sleep at the base?”

That hint grew to a fully fledged smirk as she took back her hands and grabbed her tray, leaving him to watch her six as she left the cafeteria.

 

 


	3. Meanwhile, in 1983...

She was leaning over a computer when he made his big entrance to the Gate Room. Of course he was loving this. She bit back a smirk at his outfit – she knew it was coming but seeing the cream baggy suit, pastel tee shirt and – oh, she hadn't seen the shoes before! They definitely were not regulation and really didn't look all that comfortable?

He had the attention of everyone down there, but still had to bounce on his toes a little, shoving the sleeves of his jacket up to his elbows. “Carter! How we doing up there? Ready to fire up the flux capacitor?”

“Any minute, Sir.”

“Cool,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow at a young SF who wasn't hiding her giggle well enough.

Sam patted Walter on the shoulder and told him to begin engaging the chevrons, “Here we go, Sir.” She jogged down the few steps to the corridor and turned into the Gate room, ignoring the double-take from another young SF.

She shrugged into a large, cropped biker jacket, multiple zippers jangling and shoulder pads emphasizing her tiny waist. Tight leather pants clung to a pair of legs he had never quite associated with Carter and the whole image, to Jack, was a modest version of the bike girl posters he hung in his teenage room. His mouth simultaneously went dry and watered at the sight.

General Hammond joined them from the other door and, blessedly for Jack, garnered their attention away from her clothing. “Well, you both look the part.”

Jack cleared his throat, “I'm eight espressos away from growing a moustache and becoming a PI, Sir.” He caught Sam looking to the floor.

“Well, lets not go making any career changes just yet. Everything set, Major Carter?”

She looked back up, “Yes, sir. Once the seventh chevron is locked, we should have three seconds to enter the event horizon.”

“And end up in 1983,” he shook his head slightly, a smile on his lips. “Well, Godspeed.”

“Thank you, sir.” The gate kawooshed to life, “Bring you back a Tab Cola.”

Sam touched his arm in lieu of dragging him up the ramp before the window of opportunity lapsed. The heavy footfalls on the metallic platform echoed as they entered the horizon and faded to whispered steps on tarmac as they materialised on the other side. Thirty years prior. 

Sam spun, watching as time struggled to maintain the two windows, the gate swirling away to reveal a brick wall. She checked her watch, made some mental calculations and pulled back a greasy, stained sheet in the far corner to reveal a shiny looking motorbike. “Nice,” she muttered.

“We make it?” Jack asked, assessing their location. It looked like a back alley, a busy street at the end with yellow cabs and various colours and designs of cars driving past at speed. Knocked over trash cans were strewn around and loose litter fluttered in the breeze. He grabbed a sheet of newspaper from the nearest can, “76ers 86 Lakers 4-0”, he read. Then twisted to the page to read the date, “June first 1983.”

“I remember that game. NBA final,” Sam commented, covering over the bike again and looking over his shoulder. “I'm guessing that paper is about two weeks old.”

“How much time do we have?”

“About twelve hours to buy the device, make an eleven and a half hour trip across state lines and pass it to Gna.”

“What are we buying again?”

She unzipped a pocket and pulled out a photograph folded into quarters. He committed it to memory – three gold chains, blue stone, squiggly writing – and passed it back. “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

They jogged to the end of the street and turned left, San Francisco's Haight Ashbury district suddenly coming to life. Colourful buildings lined the sidewalk, motorbikes roared past, boxy looking sedans crept by with hip-hop blasting. Animal prints, baggy trousers, bright coloured shirts, slogan tee shirts; there was colour everywhere and Jack's mind brought forward some of his more questionable outfits back in the day. A few of Sara's too. 

He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his top pocket as they quickly walked, feeling the zat gun bouncing against the small of his back and hidden behind the baggy sports jacket. 

“The market should be just around this corner.”

He nodded and pointed as the first stall came to view. They quickly scanned the tables of large, plastic handmade jewelry, hair products and tee shirts emblazoned with the MTV logo. Sam swiped an appreciative hand over a leather jacket on a stand but kept walking, finally stopping still and picking up the necklace from the photo. It had the weight she would have expected and the ancient-type writing seemed to fit. It all felt too easy but that _was_ the amulet... “How much?”

The vendor looked at her hand, then at her, “Fifty bucks.”

“Five,” Jack retorted, stepping closer. 

“That's a genuine artefact.”

“And I'm David Bowie. Five dollars.”

“Twenty.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen and that's as low as I'll go.”

Jack looked at him disapprovingly but counted the money as Sam dug in her pocket for a pouch, stashing the necklace within and stuffing inside her jacket. 

“Gotta keep the little lady happy, eh?” the vendor smirked, taking the proffered notes.

Both Jack and Sam had a retort ready but their attentions were dragged to raised voices at a stall a few down, a dispute over a price apparently. They both looked in the direction, then realised they were in the same positions as the photograph that Daniel had received. 

Jack looked over to the general direction the picture must have been taken from as Sam touched her hand to the zat gun in her shoulder holster. “C'mon,” Jack nudged her towards the other side of the street and away from the line of sight of their secret, possibly armed, photographer.

“That seemed too easy,” Sam jogged alongside him, her heavy boot thuds masking the slaps of his wicker shoes. 

“I know.” They ran as quickly as they could, dodging past meandering shoppers and bored teenagers. “Lets think about that more after we get to the alley and to Phoenix.”

They turned into the alleyway, Jack hanging back to look for followers while she pulled back the sheet, climbing astride the bike. “Kawasaki 1000,” she marvelled, her eyes sparkling like an excited child at Christmas.

“Like from 'CHiPs',” he swallowed, turning to her voice and committing the image to memory of a leather-clad Carter slamming down the kick start of a glistening black motorbike, the roar and purr of the engine deafening in the close alley. 

“And 'Mad Max',” she defended, tossing him the spare helmet and threading her hand over her hair to slide on her own. “If we crash, you've had it, sir,” she gestured to his linen clothing that wouldn't stand a chance against asphalt at ninety-plus miles an hour. 

“Don't crash.” He sat behind her, encasing her within his thighs as he grasped the pillion bar. “Ready when you are.”

She twisted the handle, the engine revving and vibrating through them. He couldn't see but he knew she would be smiling. 

She guided them to the street, her leather jacket fitting around the sleek muscles of her back and twisting as she turned them into traffic and towards the I-5. She gunned it once they hit the interstate. 

What was an eleven hour drive was, of course, managed with an hour to spare, even with fuel stops. Jack had felt safe as her pillion passenger – not to mention a little turned on – but damn, she blew through quite a few laws on the trip. His legs were a little jelly-like when he climbed off the bike for the final time, tugging on the trousers that now bore more creases and had provided little to no wind protection on the journey. He would need to ask Daniel why he couldn't have just changed to leathers himself... “This the place?” 

“Yes, sir,” She kicked the stand on the bike and dismounted, stretching her back out and looking around them. Night was beginning to fall, an orange glow to the magnificent views below them. The McDowell Mountains rose and sloped around them, dusty grey with pockets of green and almost reminiscent of Cheyenne. 

“See anything?” he shook rocky sand from his shoes.

She cupped her hand over her eyes, scanning for anything that might suggest a drop. “Nothing. You?”

He was about to shake his head when he spotted three lights skimming through the sky at unnatural speeds. “Incoming...” Both took hold of their zats and trained them on the flight path of the blue orbs. 

_Of course_ , Jack thought as they hovered into a triangle shape right above them. _Such a cliché._ Particularly when beams began to shine down from all three, converging on a rock just a few metres away. 

“Sir...” Carter warned, not sure if they should be taking cover. 

“Hold your position...”

A figure materialised before the beam was retracted. Tall, feminine, long red hair flowing over feather-clad shoulders and to a dark, boned corset. She wouldn't have been out of place in an episode of  _Xena, Warrior Princess._ “O'Neill, Carter, I presume,” she spoke.

“Nah, I presume,” Jack replied, lowering the zat but keeping a finger near the trigger. 

“Gna.” She looked disinterested in Jack's humour, “You have the amulet?”

“Maybe. You got a way home for us? We need to go about 800 miles that-a-way. Oh, and thirty years.”

“Your passage is assured.” The dark feathers covering her shoulders and upper arms fluttered in a breeze as she held out her hand, “The amulet.” 

He waited a beat before nodding slightly, gesturing for Sam to hand it over. She brought it from her pocket and placed the pouch into her hand. 

The woman poured out the amulet and examined it. “Very good. Thank you for your service.” She tucked it into a small pocket in her bodice. 

“Anytime. So about our passage?”

She waved a hand in a circular motion and a Gate appeared behind them. Sam held her zat towards the already shimmering event horizon, just in case – they didn't know what time-travelling-laws-of-physics-defying voodoo they were dealing with. She looked back over her shoulder to see the beams converging over the woman again, a gentle nod given before dematerialising.

“Guess that's our cue...” Jack watched the lights zip away into the night sky before turning and gesturing towards the Stargate. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

They heard the thud of Daniel's bag hitting the floor before they noticed he had entered Sam's lab.

"Tell me everything."

"Daniel!" Sam grinned, half expecting him to not look like 'her' Daniel despite knowing that wasn't likely. He did look rather tired and was sporting a fair amount of shadow on his cheeks and chin.

He scrambled onto a chair next to her, "What happened?"

"Nice to see you too, buddy," Jack sassed, his arms crossing as he leant back. Sam knew he was likely to withhold all talk of their trip until Daniel had shown common courtesy and politeness, but she knew better than to rile an over-tired and under-caffeinated Daniel Jackson. She turned to him and began to recount their trip again, Jack interjecting with a few comments.

"That's it?"

"That's all she wrote."

Daniel looked confused, "Tell me again about the woman."

"Red hair-"

"-Kind of reddy-orange," Sam added.

"Long dress, feathery armour type thing over her shoulders," he looked to Sam who nodded. "She didn't take kindly to bullshit, said thanks and waved her hand and boom, we're back in the Gate Room present day."

"Well..." Sam wasn't quite sure 'present day' was correct.

"Well, yeah."

"Well what?" Daniel looked between the two, his eyebrows near his hairline.

"Well..." Sam told the story of the changes since their return.

Daniel looked to Jack, then back at Sam, trying to decide if they were having him on. He saw only earnest confusion.

Without another word, he swung off the seat and left the lab. Jack and Sam looked to each other before Daniel reappeared, grabbed his bag and left again.

"Do we follow or...?"

"He'll be back," Jack said, resting his elbows back on the counter. "So, are you coming home tonight?"

“My home is not my home any more, sir.”

“My home is your home now. Until you figure all of this out. Or don't.” He gestured to all the computers and paperwork. He could practically see all of the questions running through her mind and waited for the softening of her features as an answer to some, or maybe a realisation, set in. “I can cook dinner?”

"What time might dinner be?”

"Six?"

"I could make six," she smiled. She hoped this would start to feel normal eventually, well, somewhat normal. The butterflies in her stomach and blush she knew was colouring her cheeks was frustrating but she enjoyed the new feeling she could associate with him. "What are you making me?"

“Hmm... I was thinking fish? Maybe whole seabass with potatoes, roasted vegetables and a small salad?"

She crossed her arms and leant against the counter, "Are you trying to seduce me, sir?"

"I'm always trying to seduce you, Carter." He leant forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Sam leant her cheek into his touch, her lips puckering just slightly against his skin.

" _Frigg_!" Daniel exclaimed from the doorway, a huge, heavy tome open between his hands and eyes on a page.

Jack sighed quietly, "Told you he'd be back." He reluctantly took his hand back.

"Was this the woman?" He stepped forward, oblivious to the moment he had interrupted, and placed the book on the counter. He tapped a somewhat generic drawing of a woman.

"Maybe?"

"Who is it?" Jack asked.

"Frigg. Norse mythology has her as Thor's Mom."

"Wait, she's _Asgard_?"

“Thor has a _mom_?”

"In the mythology they created as a cover and, yes, quite possibly Asgard. There are differing tales about how she looks and her character, but she associates with 'red gold',” he gestured as if he had long hair over his shoulders, “used falcon plumes to shapeshift and..."

"And...?"

"Basically had the ability to change destiny."

"Oh my god," Sam's eyes shot to Jack's. So this wasn't their fault? They didn't change anything in the past and it was possibly all planned anyway?

"Are you saying _Thor_ is behind all of this?" Jack asked, his voice stern.

"I-I don't know. It might just be Frigg, like how it was only Loki behind your cloning. It might not even be her at all, we won't know-"

"-Until we speak to-" Jack attempted to finish Daniel's sentence, standing from his seat to go to Hammond before both he and Sam were taken from the lab in a flash of fluorescent movement. The beam and disappearance of his two friends took Daniel a beat to understand in his sleep-deprived state, looking around for where they may be hiding, until he picked up the phone to inform General Hammond of the new development.

"-Thor!" Jack was suddenly staring at just the person, the dark grey of the ship a stark difference to the pale paint and flashing lights of Sam's lab. "Old buddy, ol' pal. Got a few questions for ya."

Thor took his seat once Jack and Sam had materialised on his ship, another Asgard stood just behind. "O'Neill, Major Carter," he greeted.

Sam smiled, "Hi, Thor."

"I believe you have already met Frigg."

Jack looked at the being at Thor's shoulder that bore no resemblance at all to the woman they had met. "Have you changed your hair?"

"This is my true form," Frigg announced. "You may call me Frigg or use the Earth pronouns she or her."

"Good to know. So about the time travel...?"

"It was I who sent Daniel Jackson the photographs and sent you both back in time. I needed to retrieve the amulet but this body is failing too much for the travel."

"Wait, so that wasn't even you we met there?"

"No. It was one of my holograms."

Jack's head was beginning to reel and hurt. "So you sent us back in time, had us break approximately 10 traffic laws at the speed Carter was going, and had us meet a hologram of you? All for some jewellery? That better be some 50 karat gold there, let me tell you. "

"The amulet contains code to the very make up of Asgard DNA. We were forced to split the information and hide fragments throughout time and space to ensure it did not fall into the wrong hands. We may now be able to rectify the degenerative issues we have with cloning our kind."

" _May_ be able to?"

"We are still missing many fragments and have been unable to locate them as yet. We may need to call upon your help again in the future, if you will allow us."

"Why us?"

"Thor has spoken highly of SG1 and its two leaders especially. He knew you would be willing to help us on our mission."

"But you didn't say it was you. Your letter was pretty vague about who, it was the photographs that sent us on our way."

"There are a great many kinds who are looking for this information to use against us. We did not want to put your lives at risk also."

Jack had definitely deflated since his initial ire. But it was Sam who asked the next question, "Was it you who changed what we came back to?"

Frigg nodded slightly, "It was."

"Why?"

"I wanted to thank you on behalf of the Asgard people for retrieving this fragment. Thor had been saddened to learn of Doctor Fraiser's death and suggested her resurrection as a way appreciation."

"And us? Being together?"

"That was not I."

"Really?"

"I am most certain."

Jack saw the movement in Thor's jaw, almost as if he was grinding his teeth. He chose not to question his reaction.

"Are you not happy with the outcome?"

"I, er, that is yet to be decided." He answered, looking at Sam who seemed to be just as confused and amazed.

“Thor,” Jack said, stepping forward a little, “if you can bring Janet back can you bring my kid back?”

Sam's eyes shot to him.

“I am sorry, O'Neill. Some events cannot-”

“-Yeah yeah,” he waved his hand dismissively, looking anywhere but at the Asgards. He looked down to see Sam's fingers wrapping around his forearm.

“Are you able to tell us when the next solar flare is? So we might be able to...” Fix? “...go back?”

Frigg's eyes narrowed, “I am not. Shall we return you now?"

"Okay, well th-" Sam began, watching as the wave of Frigg's hand had them reappear in Jack's front room at his house. "-anks for...Janet..."

"Not much of a talker, that one," Jack fell back into his couch, scrubbing a hand across his face and to the back of his neck.

She sat down next to him, one leg curled beneath her, “Are you okay?”

His hand fell to her knee, “Yeah...yes,” he lied. “I will be.”

She entwined her fingers with his on her knee, wishing she could bring herself to comfort him more. "We should call Daniel, tell him we're back."

"Yeah," he checked his watch. "Damn, the store's closed now. No seabass. Can I seduce you with Chinese take out?"

"Let's find out," she smirked, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket and moving into the other room.   
\---

"You lied to O'Neill and Major Carter."

"They need not know that."

"Why?"

"Are you not a romantic, Thor?"

\---

After she made her calls and changed quickly, she stepped back into the living room to smells of Chinese food and warm cardboard cartons.

Jack was chewing a spring roll when he asked, “Did you get through to Daniel?”

“And General Hammond. They're happy we're safe and that the confusion is cleared up. She sat down on the couch next to him, curling her legs beneath her and taking the proffered beer. “Thanks. My simulations are still failing to predict the next suitable flare.”

He passed her a box of Chow Mein and took the Sweet and Sour Chicken for himself, “So, what now?”

She leant over to take a fork from the table and blew out a breath, “I have no idea.”

“Sad everything,” he took a mouthful, “has changed?”

“I'm not sad to have Janet back.”

“And the rest?”

She stuck her fork into a piece of chicken from his box, “That is yet to be decided.” She smirked as she popped it into her mouth. “Did you ever think you'd be married again?”

“No. Maybe? I don't know. I liked being married though. I gave pretty good husband.”

“Yeah?”

“We were good together. Until...”

“Right...” she raked her fork through the noodles. “How do you feel about everything?”

“I'm not sad to have Janet back.”

She looked at him incredulously but amused, “And the rest?”

“That is yet to be decided.”

She shook her head but couldn't help the grin. Her lips slowly tightened into a line as she studiously twisted noodles and veggies around her fork.

“What?” Jack asked, pinching a water chestnut from her box.

She tipped her box so he could grab what he wanted, “What?”

“What's going on in that brain of yours?” He took a prawn seeing as she was offering.

She put the forkful into her mouth to buy herself some time. She was trying to decide if it was really giving up or if it was embracing. None of her solar flare prediction simulations were proving fruitful, she was running out of ideas for another angle, and even if they were successful at predicting the next flare that they could time jump on, what would they do? They hadn't been able to figure out what they had done back in 1983 to offer them such a fortuitous turn of events. “Am I looking a gift-horse in the mouth?”

“Excuse me?”

“Janet's here, and we can be together here, and I'm trying my damnedest to get us back to where we were. Why?” she jabbed the fork into her carton and let go. “Janet asked me if I was trying to break something that was fixed, and...”

“And?”

She reached out and touched his cheek, the stubble scratching her hand. She slowly leant forward, hovering over his lips and waiting for him to close the distance, if he wanted to.

Of course he did.

His kiss was gentle, exploring, his hand resting on her knee and squeezing. They broke away, eyes silently asking what they couldn't voice. Sam placed her carton on the table, then took his and put it next to hers. She climbed astride his hips, “Is this okay?”

“This is always okay, Carter,” he said before leaning up and capturing her lips. This kiss was different; this had passion and promise and _skill._ She moaned into his mouth, his hands skimming up her back and into her hair, manoeuvring her face to where he could further deepen the kiss and groan at her response.

She shimmied her hips, his hands immediately sliding down to cup her behind and encourage her to repeat her movements. She let him guide her, sliding her tongue against his before pulling away and just resting her forehead against his, her hips continuing to slide along his thighs and eliciting delicious sensations.

Her breath was in pants against his lips, “Jack...”

He kissed her again, and slowed his ministrations. “I wish I could take you to bed,” his voice was whispered, hoarse, sexy as all hell.

She swallowed and smiled into his lips, “Technically you have. I sleep on this couch.”

He chased her lips as she straightened up, “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she played her fingers into the front of his tee-shirt. His hands were on either side of her hips, his long fingers having dipped to bare skin when she had leant into him. He wasn't gratuitously groping, getting seven years worth of fantasies come true from one kiss – he was letting her call the shots.

He was aroused, she could tell from the darkness of his eyes and, yes, from the tempting bulge in his trousers. Her eyes dropped to his lap and she felt his hand cup her cheek and bring her eyes back to his.

He had that look.

The look he gave her when she had gone to his house to tell him everything, when they sat on that very couch and he called her a 'National Treasure'. The look they had shared right before Daniel and Teal'c had interrupted, when they could see the potential of their night just fade away, how much they both wanted a different outcome...

She moved her hands to the hem of her tee shirt and pulled it over her head.

“Carter...” His hands moved back to his hips.

The use of her last name, the name he had called her by for seven years but never, _ever_ in that tone sent a shiver down her spine and colour to her cheeks. She smoothed her hand across his face, her thumb playing across his cheek as her fingers threaded into his hair, “I'm not fighting it any more.”

He surged up to her lips, “Thank God.”

His hands slid up the curve of her back and crushed her to him, his fingers splaying across the expanse of her skin. His tongue slid against her lips and was quickly bade entrance, only losing contact when she tugged on his top and wanted it off him. It was tossed into the general direction of hers and his hands were back onto her waist, gliding up to her breasts as her hands threaded into the hair peppering his stomach and chest.

She exhaled on a moan as his thumbs circled, flicked and worried her nipples through her bra. His lips left hers and kissed a path down her neck, scraping his teeth into a gentle bite at her shoulder before his hands brought together her breasts so he could tongue between the swells.

“You have a bed,” she breathed, heat pooling between her legs.

He mumbled a “mmmh,” his mouth encasing a material clad nipple.

“We should use it.”

“Too far away.”

She smiled, her eyes tightly closed as she gave into the sensations from his tongue. Her fingers were in his hair, scraping across his scalp, soothing the path and generally threading through the strands as she had wanted to for years. “... _Jack_...”

He sat back against the couch's cushion, his lips red and eyes so so dark. His hair was sticking out in all directions and making her lips tilt into a smile before she bit them together.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she scrambled to her feet.

“ _What?_ ”

He had faint scratch marks down his chest, his jeans tented more than before and looked really quite debauched. She was almost around the corner into the hall when she grinned, “I've just had this dream, that's all.”

“ _This dr_ -!”

She heard the squeak of couch springs and he was suddenly behind her, halting her journey to his bedroom with a hand on her waist and her hip, his body pressed against the length of hers and his lips on the side of her neck.

“You dreamt about me?”

“Sometimes,” Sam breathed, tilting her head to the side to offer him more room as his hand wandered up to her breast. “Did you dream about me?”

His voice was a growl against her throat, “All the damn time.”

She worried her legs might buckle from her timbre of his words vibrating through her skin, as his fingers popped the button to her trousers. “What did you dream about?”

He pushed her forwards, his leg stepping between hers as he guided her to the wall just before his bedroom door. He turned her so her shoulders touched the wall but her back arched into him, their pelvises touching as one of his hands was on the base of her back and the other pinched at her bra clasp, removing the barrier as his lips reattached to hers.

She felt her hips thrust along his thigh, a moan escaping from deep in her chest as he cupped her breast, squeezed and manoeuvred so he could pinch the nipple between her fingers. The hand on her back slid down between her trousers and grasped at her ass as his tongue danced with hers, sliding against hers in erotic symbolism of penetration.

He dragged his hands and lips from her body and leant his forearm against the wall near her head. Her eyes took a moment to open, her breath practically in pants and her entire body thrumming.

“I thought about that a lot,” he told her, “Some other stuff too.”

She swallowed. He was looming over her, his eyes dark and lips in a smirk. She felt small and vulnerable and it wasn't often she felt that way. It was generally something she would try her hardest to not feel but now, with him? It didn't feel like a threat.

It felt like a challenge.

Like his reddened lips in that tilted line were saying 'Well, what you got?' Oh, she had a lot.

“Interesting,” she said. She wrapped her hand around the bulge in his jeans and slowly teased her fingers along the material-clad length, “I dreamt about this.”

His chest began to rise and fall in rhythmic bursts, his eyes closing as he let himself lose himself in her ministrations. She leant forward, kissing and nipping at his neck and chest, adding a twist to her wrist and wishing the trousers weren't in the way.

His head hit his forearm against the wall. She wondered whether she could slide to her knees in the gap between them, really show some of the things she had dreamt about over the years.

Before she was able to make up her mind, he had her gripped by the hips again and was guiding her to his bedroom, his lips quickly fastened to hers. He kicked the door closed as she popped the button to his BDUs, letting her hand slide between all the barriers and to his warm skin.

He was most definitely hard now and hissed as she fed the circle of her thumb and fingers around his erection. She pushed the opened trousers from his hips with one hand and got help for the boxer briefs. “Jesus, Sam...”

Her own BDUs and underwear were loose on her hips but she was soon stepping out of them at his behest as he led her towards his bed, his fingers delving lower to circle her clit on the way.

“I didn't think,” he started, his voice hitching in his throat as her palm glided over the head of his penis, “we'd be this good together.”

“I didn't have a doubt,” she flicked her tongue over his lips as she grasped his shoulder and used him as support to manoeuvre herself up the bed so her shoulders were on the pillows and he was looming over her once again. He settled between her legs and allowed her to guide him to her entrance.

She swore as he entered her, the intrusion almost painful in how long it had been since her last encounter but he was slow in his thrust, her chest rising until he hit the hilt and she finally exhaled against his lips. “Jack...”

He kissed a path down her neck as he slowly pulled out, taking her nipple between his teeth as he thrust back in. Her fingers pressed down his back until she got his ass, the muscles tensed as he tried to keep to his slow pace. She bit at his shoulder, her hands resting on his buttocks and pushing him quicker on his next thrust.

She whimpered into his skin, her teeth scraping across his strong shoulders and thick neck, her nails scratching a path up his back. “More.”

He obliged, picking up the pace of his hips as she slid in and out of her with sloppy sounds and deliciously easy glides. “Carter, _Jesus_ , Sam...”

She could feel the first tendrils of a promising orgasm at his voice, moving her hips in time with his but countering. She cupped his face and brought her lips to his, but first he sucked his thumb into his mouth and thread it between them to her clit. She gasped into his mouth, her hips going faster, circling his as his pace quickened, sliding in and out of her at speed, her breasts bouncing on her chest.

He nipped at her bottom lip, bringing her back to him for a kiss as he felt her muscles begin the falter in their rhythm. She was close and he knew it, he looked down to where their bodies were joining when her attention to the kiss was lost and her head fell backwards to the bed head.

Her skin was rosy, fluttering at the exertion, tension in her muscles beginning to reach their peak. “Sam...” he growled as he felt her squeeze at his cock.

He was torn between wanting to watch her orgasm and wanting to just feel it, to know that him sucking on her nipple, flicking at her clit and pounding into her was made her lose it. Maybe it could be his voice, telling her how _fucking_ beautiful she was, how this was even more than his imagination had toyed with all those years. Her nails were digging into his shoulder blades from where she had wrapped him in a hug, keeping him as close to her as she could without impeding his movement, because of them wanted that.

“Jack... I'm... oh g- _there_...”

He committed to memory where 'there' was as his thumb circled, flicked, pressed onto the bundle of nerves near where he entered her. She whispered 'there' again before her body curved in on itself, her muscles squeezing him so hard he was almost stuck still. He thrust how he could and rode her through her orgasm with his thumb still on her clit.

_Fucking beautiful._

She collapsed onto the bed, lithe and loose and smiling. He took her lips again, kissing away the smile with his tongue and slowly beginning to thrust again when she locked her ankles around the base of his back. It only took a few more pounds, knowing she was willing and satisfied and it was because of him. He began to grunt as his thrusts bottomed out, his head hitting her shoulder as the pull of orgasm tightened everything within him.

She kissed his ear, whispered his name in her hoarse voice that just dripped with eroticism and he was gone. His hips faltered as his thrusts slacked, his breath in pants as he collapsed against her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact #2 - Whilst researching, I also decided to do a quick google around Norse mythology, considering the extent of what I know is courtesy of Stargate and the Marvel movies. Managed to find Frigg, wife of Odin and Mum of Thor. Also generally known as Freya, who 'knows the destiny of all beings, implying that she also has the power to alter them if she so chooses' (norse-mythology.org). She had a thing about love and had a Goddess who ran errands for her called Gna. Fate! Again!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge, immense thanks for all the kudos and lovely comments on this one. Really enjoyed writing it and hopefully this chapter sends it off well!

 

“Mmm,” Jack growled, his voice vibrated through his chest and into Sam's back. “That's yours.”

She shuffled blindly and reached for her ringing cell phone on the bedside table. She glanced at the time (03:14am) and regretted the stab of pain from the screen's brightness. “Carter.”

“ _Sam? It's me. Are you with Colonel O'Neill?”_

She looked behind her to where he was rubbing at his eyes, the cover gathered around his bare hips, “Um, yeah. Why?”

“ _Put me on speaker.”_

She clutched the sheet to her chest and turned to him, “It's Janet, she wants to speak to both of us. Go ahead, Janet.”

“ _Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you but I need you both to come to the base.”_

“It's 3am, Doc. What's the rush?”

“ _I'm sorry to tell you this over the phone but... General Hammond went into cardiac arrest. I tried everything but I was... unable to revive him.”_

“...What?”

“ _Sir, General Hammond died at oh-three-hundred-hours.”_

It took Jack a beat to respond, “Have you called his daughter?”

“ _Abigail's getting someone to watch the girls and then she'll be here. Well, at the surface.”_

“We're on our way.”

Sam clicked off, her head and heart reeling. Jack leant over and kissed her hair before shuffling himself out of the bed and stooping for his underwear.

Sam followed suit, quickly dressing and running a brush through her hair. Neither had said anything as they dressed. “Jack...”

“You okay?” His voice was hoarse, quiet.

“No. Jack... we did this.”

“What are you-”

“-Equal and opposite reaction, remember? We did this.”

“Sam, I... let's just get to the Mountain, okay?”

She bit her lips together, her chin beginning to quiver as her heart continued its drop to her stomach. She nodded.

Jack took her hand in his and lead to his truck.

**\--**

They had transferred Hammond's body to a private hospital room by the time Jack and Sam had got there. Janet had posted two SFs outside the door and the Mountain was placed on high alert considering there had no General in charge.

Sgt Harriman was stood over the bed, his eyes red and looking even smaller than his short stature. “Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter...”

“Walter,” Jack rested his hand on his shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Yes sir,” he lied. “I heard a clatter from General Hammond's office, and had some paperwork for him so figured I'd just check on him. He was slumped over in his seat and his phone and half the desk on the floor. I-I called Doctor Fraiser-”

“You did good, Sergeant. Listen, go home. Take the day, we'll call you with any news.”

“If it's all the same, I'd rather stay on base, Sir. Until the General goes,” his voice broke on the last word.

“Sure. Just not here, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sam touched his arm as he passed.

Jack stepped up to the General's side, and collected himself. It didn't seem real, it was all a dream. “It was an honour, Sir.”

“An honour and a pleasure,” Sam added, before stooping to kiss his cheek. Jack wrapped his arms around her as soon as she was stood again, both clinging to each other tightly.

“Has anyone told the President?” Jack asked Janet who was waiting silently and forlornly at the door.

“Yes sir. I made the call. He asked that you call when you get to the base.”

Jack nodded then looked to Sam, “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, of course, go. I'm going to stay here a while.”

“Find me when Abigail gets here.”

Janet knocked for the door to be opened, “I have more calls to make too.”

Sam enveloped her into a hug first. “He had a lot of respect for you, y'know.”

Janet was still reeling over the loss and the inability to save him so the words – that she knew to be true – stung a little. “And for you.”

Sam looked over to the General.

Janet nodded, a tear tripping down her cheek. “I'll be back.”

Sam pulled over a chair and sat down. She heaved a sigh as the tears began, “This is all my fault, sir. I'm so sorry.”

–

“Hey,” Jack said, finally tracking Sam down to Daniel's lab a few hours later. “Teal'c's on his way back with Master Bra'tac and we're recalling all off-world SG teams to be safe.”

“Good.”

Daniel didn't know what to do with himself so announced, “I'm going to get food, do you want anything?” Sam said her decline while Jack just shook his head as Daniel left.

“He eats when he's upset.”

“I'm too nauseous to eat. We did this, Jack. We killed the General.”

“Sam”

“-Equal and opposite reaction, I told you something would happen.”

“Sam, you can't know this was directly caused by us. It was most likely caused by the General's love of cheeseburgers, cigars and bourbon.”

“We can see if Thor-”

“We can't go to Thor every time someone dies.”

“I'm not saying every time! I'm saying _this_ time. This wasn't a set death, Jack, this is a result of us fucking up somewhere when we went back to 1983!”

“Hey, c'mere,” he pulled her to him as her anger to began to rise and tears fall from her eyes. “We'll try him. We'll need to tell him about the General anyway, we can check while we're...there...”

As if on cue, again, a beam of fluorescent light shone into the SGC but this time Jack and Sam remained and Thor materialised. “Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, am I interrupting?”

Sam pulled herself away from Jack's embrace and wiped at her cheeks as Jack asked, “Do you have us bugged or something? Superman hearing? Batman beacon?”

Thor didn't understand the references so chose to ignore them. “I have been made aware of General Hammond's passing. I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks, Thor,” Jack said, swiping at the back of his neck. “Listen, while we have you, can you-”

“This was a set event, O'Neill.”

“How?” Sam interjected. “This is the consequence of something we did when we were completing Frigg's mission.”

“It is not, Major Carter. General Hammond's death is a set event in time, I understand that may be difficult to comprehend, particularly at this time. The union of yourself and Colonel O'Neill was not a chance outcome either – Frigg also engineered it to occur.”

“Wait,” Jack leaning forward, “She said she had nothing to do with that.”

“She was not truthful. She believed it to be more romantic if you were unaware.” If Thor could have shrugged, his voice suggested he would be doing so.

“ _Romantic_?” Jack asked, his eyes wide. “Do you have much romance up there, because a lie isn't too romantic down here, buddy.”

Sam placed her hand on Jack's chest, quieting his questions and building annoyance. “We really didn't do this? We didn't kill General Hammond?”

“You did not, Major Carter.”

She heaved a giant sigh, turning into Jack so her forehead could hit his chest. He splayed a hand across her back and placed a kiss onto the crown of her hair, expelling his own sigh of relief.

“Please offer my condolences to the General's family. We have stationed members of our fleet outside your orbit where they are undetectable to your scans. The news of General Hammond's passing reached the Asgard, it has likely reached other worlds too, therefore we will assist in defence should the need arise.”

“Thank you, Thor.”

As the beam lit the room again, Jack placed his hands on Sam's cheeks and tipped her face so he could attach his lips to hers in a searing kiss. Her hands gripped his biceps tightly as he deepened the embrace with promise and potential.

Their foreheads touched. “I have more calls to make,” he said, his breath whispering over her lips.

She swallowed, “Of course.”

“You're sticking around?”

“Base is on lock down, no choice.”

“Right,” he sought her lips again.

 

–

There was a palpable sadness on everyone Sam passed in the halls. She stopped to talk to a few people, offer words of support and reminisce in a few shared memories of the General. She looked into Hammond's office through the briefing room window, finding Jack talking animatedly on the phone from the other side of the desk – she didn't blame him for not sitting in the General's chair. She briefly tried to imagine somebody else sitting there, commanding the space as General Hammond had, but the thought only offered physical pain.

She gave a small smile when Jack turned and saw her, flexing his fingers as a wave. She descended the metal staircase to the observation room giving Sgt Harriman's shoulders a squeeze as he ran diagnostics they didn't need on the Gate.

She eventually found her way to the infirmary and to Janet's office. She was typing away at her computer, her dark hair and computer light accentuating her pallor. “Knock knock.”

Janet looked up, “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey. You doing okay?” She realised that was a silly question, “Sorry.”

She dismissed the concern, “Is the Colonel still on with the President?”

Sam sat on the desk, “He's still on the phone, I don't know who with.”

“I've just got off with the President's Physician and the Joint Chiefs of Staff,” she gestured to the telephone. “Mind if we talk about something totally unrelated?”

“Of course. Any topics in mind?”

Janet couldn't think of anything besides the 'what ifs' and any signs she had missed. She shrugged, “Wait, when I called this morning...”

Sam did her best to keep her face nonchalant though her eyebrows rose, “Mmhmm?”

“Sam...” she was not convinced.

“We... may have been in bed...”

A smile began to grow on Janet's face, “As awkward as it is to hear about a commanding officer's sex life, I'm going to need some details.”

Sam's cheeks coloured, not only from being about to tell her friend about _some_ of the details, but also from visceral flashbacks of her night with Jack.

“That good?” Janet grinned.

“We came back from Thor's ship and, y'know...”

“Who jumped who?”

“Janet!”

“Ah, so it was you,” her grin somehow grew wider. “I'm very proud.”

Sam laughed, shaking her head. “We had a very enjoyable night together,” she said, diplomatically. “ _Very_ enjoyable.”

“Have you had the talk?”

“No, but with how he just kissed me, I think its safe to say we're on the same page.”

Janet reached out and squeezed her arm, “I'm so happy for you, honey.”

“Can I ask you something? I, _we,_ don't have any memories of our wedding, and there doesn't seem to be any photographs up at the Colonel's...”

Janet leant forward and brought up a folder on her computer. She had some photographs of Cassie and her sister, a few from various team gatherings and one from Sam and Jack's wedding. She brought it up full screen and turned the monitor. “It was a small ceremony in the garden at Jack's place. I was maid of honour – we'll talk about the bachelorette I threw you another time – and Teal'c was best man. Daniel qualified to officiate and...and you don't seem to be hearing anything I'm saying.”

She was right, Sam was only half listening as her attention was on the photograph. Jack held Sam around the waist, both in the throes of laughter. They all were; Janet, Cassie, Teal'c, Daniel, General Hammond and Jacob. She wore white, Jack was in a suit, neither had opted for their Dress Blues. They were under the big tree in his garden, white flowers and ribbons were draped across its branches and framing the group.

“What was so funny?”

“Teal'c asked if this was when you threw the bridesmaid.”

“Bridesmaid... not bouquet...?”

“Nope, he was wanting you to caber-toss me and Cassie over the garden.”

Sam laughed, wishing she could remember it.

\--

She found him later in the far corner of the cafeteria. A space quickly becoming their space it seemed. He had his head tucked into his crossed arms in the table, catching what shut eye he could after being at the base for nearly ten hours. She smoothed her hand across his shoulders and sat next to him. "Hey."

He straightened up, stretching out his back and scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. "Hey."

"How're you doing?"

"If I hear one more ringing phone or dial tone I might go postal."

"Understandable," she smiled warmly, her hand resting on his arm. "How did it go with the President?"

“He's gutted about George.”

“We all are.”

“Seems he was earmarked for a place at Homeworld Security.” He elaborated after the look of confusion flitted across her features, “A new advisory and defence role to be based in Arlington.”

“He would have been good at that.”

“The President offered me Hammond's seat.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, “In Arlington?”

“At the SGC.”

"Wow, Jack. Is that something you want?"

"I've never thought about it. I mean, I've covered Hammond as 2IC but that's different than being The Man. I've never wanted to be The Man. Pretty much spent my entire career fighting against The Man."

"But you would be the one fighting _for_ us. You have experience of the front line, you know what we need and-"

"I turned him down."

"What? Why?"

"Because I would have had to choose between you and the job."

"Wait, he said that?"

"No, but think about it: Ignoring the frat regs for Colonel and Major is one thing, for _General_ and Major is a whole other. And in charge of the whole base,” he gestured to himself then Sam, “and leading the flagship team? They'd never fully trust my judgement over SG1 matters and I don't know if I would either."

"Jack..." she leant forward and kissed him. "This would be a huge coup for your career."

"I've had my career, Sam. I haven't got long left on a front line team, I'm floating around as it is and Janet says my knees are on borrowed time.”

“So what now?”

“Now, Hank Landry's coming in.”

“General Landry? That's...” she ran through what she knew of him and his career. “That's great, actually.”

“He's flying in tomorrow for the funeral.”

“What about you?”

“I'm going to be heading up the cadets, whipping the children into shape.”

She bit her lips, knowing exactly how hard – but fair – he was going to be on the newbies. “Are you happy with that?”

“Ecstatic. Know why?”

“Why?”

He wrapped both hands around her knees and smoothed up her thighs just a bit, “I'm getting upped to General, I get to veto the next round of new recruits and I get you.”

Her heart skipped and she failed at biting down the grin, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Oh you do, do you?”

“Samantha Carter, I love you. I didn't need a push from the Asgard or the universe to tell me that but I did need it to get to be with you.” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and kept his hand cupping her cheek, “If you want me – bum knees, grumpy mornings and grey hair included – you'll get it all.”

She pecked his lips, “I want it all.”

The next kiss was decidedly not a peck.

–

Once the speeches at the memorial were over and the gathered were milling, chatting and reminiscing, SG1 and Janet stole away to Hammond's office.

Those in the military were in pristine dress blues though jackets had been opened or removed, Daniel's tie had been loosened and Teal'c still looked the consummate Jaffa in his ceremonial robes.

"I think we have about an hour," Janet said, closing the door and crossing to perch on the arm of Teal'c's chair, "Before Silar decides to break out his homebrew."

"Oh crap," Jack sighed, "Nobody touch that stuff unless you want to be hallucinating for a week."

"Personal experience, Jack?" Daniel asked, garnering a withering look in response.

Sam smiled between the two, before looking behind her to Hammond's empty chair. "I can't believe we're at General Hammond's memorial."

She and Jack were leaning against the desk, neither happy with the thought of sitting there. Jack looked down to his whisky tumbler before holding it up, "General George Hammond. Great General, exceptional man."

A chorus of "General Hammond" sounded from the group, those with drinks holding them aloft.

"Um, while we have you actually..." Jack took hold of Sam's hand. "We wanted to tell you that...well, we're together."

Daniel narrowed his eyes, "You're married..."

"Yes, but we're now _dating_."

"Yes but you're _married_..."

"Daniel-"

"-Jack-"

" _This_ ," Sam emphasised to shut Jack and Daniel up, "is strange for us. So, just bear with us okay?"

"I'm happy for you," Janet smiled.

"As am I," Teal'c added.

"I'm not saying there's going to be any bridesmaid throwing just yet but..."

Jack looked confused as his team began to guffaw with laughter, "What did I miss?"

–

_**The Next Day...** _

  
  


“General!”

“General,” Jack nodded hello, sidling up to Landry's side.

“Come to give me a few pointers?”

“Oh, I'm sure you'll do just fine, General. Just keep on ol' Doc Fraiser's good side and snacks; plenty of snacks.”

Landry laughed, turning back to the window looking down to the embarkation room.

“An inspirational message doesn't go amiss at this point, sir,” Jack gestured out to SG1 hovering over the base of the ramp.

“Oh, er,” he picked up the microphone and asked Walter, “Is this live?”

“Yes, sir.”

He thought for a second, “Godspeed, SG1.” SG1, Walter and Jack all turned to him as he put the microphone back down and stood straight. He looked between them all, “What? No good?”

Jack slapped his back, “Excellent, sir.” He gave Walter's shoulder a squeeze for good measure. He looked down to SG1 where Teal'c, Daniel and the new guy were just about to head through the horizon, Sam turning back one last time to catch a glimpse before she left. Jack gave a salute-to-finger-gun gesture with a smile; both she returned before heading through after her team. He felt a something dark settle in his chest that he knew would stay there until she came back through.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"Go home...watch the kids..."

"And by kids you mean the cadets."

"They're kids. Kidets. I should coin that."

“You not gonna miss gate travel, Jack?”

“Sometimes. Maybe.”

“No hard feelings about the desk?”

Jack smiled, “Not a one, Hank. You can have the desk, I get her.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact #1 - Whilst researching for the fic, I found a report of a supposed UFO sighting...in Colorado Springs... in 1983. It was like fate. I used the report as the basis for the encounter in Ch3.


End file.
